


The Doctor Is In

by CassondraWinchester, lotrspnfangirl



Series: Destiel Morning Porn Club Fics [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, DMPC, Doctor Castiel, Doctor Sam, M/M, Medical Jargon, Medical Patient Dean, PWP without Porn, Sex Toys, This is not a normal patient doctor relationship, Top Castiel, Uncomfortable Dean, do not try this at home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-19 14:57:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11900124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CassondraWinchester/pseuds/CassondraWinchester, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotrspnfangirl/pseuds/lotrspnfangirl
Summary: Dean was panicking. All he wanted was to enjoy his new purchase, but no, of course it would have to break offinsideof him. But, Sam would come out soon and he would help him. That was the perks of having a doctor for a brother. When Sam scoffs at the idea of helping him out, Dean doesn't expect his own Doctor Sexy to walk into the room. He's so screwed.





	The Doctor Is In

**Author's Note:**

> Written for DMPC! Beta'd by Taynk. 
> 
> We apologize for nothing.

“Dean?” 

Dean looked across the desk, pleading silently with Eileen not to make a big deal out of the fact that he was standing in the wrong line. Like everything else that night, he wasn’t having any luck. 

“You’re not hearing impaired, Dean. What are you doing?” Her voice was loud and clear, and the look she shot him made it clear that she was less than impressed. 

“I know, I know, but shit-- Eileen, I need to see Sam, okay?” He leaned forward onto the desk, wincing as a spark of pleasure-pain shot through him and he let out a loud pant. “I just - please, Eileen.”

Her eyes widened as she took him in and Dean was sure he looked like a fucking mess. His skin was hot, probably beet-red. Sweat beaded against his forehead and behind his ears. Everything he was wearing was too tight, too scratchy, too much against his body. He wanted both to cry out and simply just cry. 

“What- Dean, are you okay?” 

He watched as his sister-in-law snapped into professional mode, typing efficiently away at the computer before her. She knew all of his information anyway. He nodded, a quick burst, and then let his eyes fall shut. 

Sam would help. Sam would make it better. Then he could go home and pretend that none of this ever fucking happened and they could laugh about it over Thanksgiving dinner. Or, well, no. They could never bring it up again, ever, and Dean would make damn well sure Sam knew that upon punishment of death. 

If Dean didn’t die of sheer overwhelming uncomfortable _need_ , he would sure as hell be dying of embarrassment. 

“Okay, Dean, go and take a seat,” Eileen said as she taped a white band around his wrist. Dean felt himself pale. She wrinkled her eyebrows and cocked her head to the side. “You… can stand if you need to...” 

“Okay, yeah, good,” Dean answered and gave her a tight nod, trying to force a smile, but he was sure it only looked like he was going to shit himself. 

Not funny, Winchester. 

He made his way across the waiting room, slower than usual but with the determination not to waddle. He made himself smile at all of the other people waiting, leaning away from those who were hacking up a lung or three, and found an empty spot against the window. He leaned his shoulders against it, let his arms fall in front of his body, and tried to breathe. 

Sam would come out soon. He would help him. Sure, he would laugh, but Dean could handle that. Doctor-patient confidentiality beat the bro-code, and it _was_ kind of funny. Maybe. If it had been anyone other than him. 

But no, it had to be Dean Winchester that got his-

“Mr. Winchester?” 

Dean’s head snapped up and he saw a pretty blonde nurse with a clipboard at the double doors. On the other side of the waiting area, of course. He gave her a quick wave and pushed away from the wall, making his way around the chairs and people. 

“Hi, yeah, I’m Mr. Winchester. Or, my dad is, I’m Dean,” he rambled, then wanted to smack himself. This woman literally did not care. She smiled anyway, and led him through the double doors and immediately to the left. 

She motioned him into the intake room and nodded towards the chair beside her computer where she took her seat. When she looked over and noticed him shuffling by the doorway still, she spoke, “Please sit down, Mr. Winchester, so I can take your vitals and ask you a few questions.”

Dean bit back the groan of displeasure, only barely, and took the few steps to the chair she had indicated. It was hard plastic and metal - perfect. Slowly, he lowered himself down, wincing as he perched himself onto the edge, using his thighs more than his ass to rest on. Holding himself upright, however, made the muscles in his lower body tense and he was unable to hold back a gasp. 

She arched a brow at him as she fastened a blood pressure cuff around his upper arm. “Just relax your arm, please,” she said with a smile and reached for his other hand to attach a pulse ox reader to his finger. She pressed a few buttons, the blood pressure cuff starting to pump up with air, and reached for the thermometer. She clicked on a plastic sleeve and then held it over to him. “Under your tongue.”

Dean complied and let his eyes drift over to the machine, watching the numbers rise and then slowly fall as the cuff deflated. There was a 110 flashing in yellow with a heart next to it and he flicked his eyes over to her. Her face was impassive as she punched it into the keyboard and looked back to the machine. 

“Okay, so your blood pressure is a little elevated… Do you have a history of hypertension?” 

Dean glanced at the machine again and saw 146/90 flashing back at him. “Um, no, that’s high for me. I think… Sa-- my brother always said that my blood pressure was pretty good considering all the shit I eat.” Dean laughed, she did not. “Um, right, so no. I don’t have hypertensives.”

“Hypertension,” she corrected and typed something into the computer. Dean shifted, then immediately winced. “Okay, Mr. Winchester… what brings you here to us today?”

“Um,” Dean immediately felt his cheeks heat up and he tore his eyes away from the nurse and her computer. “I, uh, had an accident.”

She looked up from the computer and pinned him with a glare. “What kind of accident?”

“I… was doing everything according to the package instructions, I swear, I don’t know what happened! And, I mean, I have used them before -- not this kind, obviously -- and I wasn’t an idiot about it or anything. And then they just… _broke_ and I tried… I tried to get them out but I couldn’t and then I was kind of freaking out, I’ll admit it, and I didn’t know what the fuck to do and when I googled it, well, they were talking about tearing or sepsis and blockages and I just, fuck, I don’t want do _die_ from this, you know?” Dean blew out a breath, his heart beating fast in his chest and he clenched his hands against his thighs to stop them from shaking. 

“Sir,” she let out a long annoyed sigh, “I’m still not quite sure what you are talking about. You are going to have to be a bit more clear, what broke off where?”

Dean licked his lower lip slowly, eyes flicking over to her face before back down at his lap. He cleared his throat and then leaned forward, pulling out the package insert and sliding it over the desk at her. 

She glanced down at the pamphlet. “Oh!” her eyes widened before she quickly schooled her features from shocked to professional. “Okay.” She nodded slowly and started typing away on her keyboard.

Dean reached for the paper, tucking it back in his pocket and trying to look anywhere else other than the nurse. The silence was almost deafening in the small room, the clicking of her keyboard slowly driving him insane. Then, she stopped and turned to him. 

“How long ago did they break off?” 

Dean gave a half shrug. “Um, I am guessing maybe… five hours ago?” 

“Five hours?” She furrowed her brows. “How come you didn’t come in right away?”

Dean stared at her. “Would _you_ want to just rush into the hospital? I tried to, you know, get them out myself. Plus, I asked around on a few facebook sites to see if anyone had any tips or anything…”

“I’m taking it you didn’t find anything helpful.” She smiled wryly at him. “Have there been any medication changes, new medical information, since you were last here in… March?”

“No,” Dean shook his head. “No changes.”

“Okay.” She nodded and typed a few more things on her computer before turning to him. “We’re done here. Go on back out to the waiting room and you will be called back shortly.”  
Dean nodded and stood, slowly shuffling towards the door. 

“Mr. Winchester,” she called out and he looked over his shoulder. Her face was blank, save the raised eyebrow, and she calmly said, “For future reference, you should buy your anal beads from a reputable store, not on a bargain deal from Amazon.”

Dean turned sharply, embarrassed, and immediately winced at the shift inside of him. He fumbled for the door knob, nodding his head as he slipped into the hallway. He was sure that the moment the door was closed she would burst into laughter. He tried to ignore that fact as he made his way back over to his window spot. 

Sam would come soon. Sam would help him. 

It felt like hours that Dean stood against the window, focusing on the cool press of glass against his back instead of the throbbing between his legs from the insistent pressure against his prostate. He tried as hard as he could not to move, not to shift them any more than necessary, and let his eyes fall closed. 

Distantly, he wondered if those stupid viagra commercials were onto something when they warned about “erections lasting more than four hours.” If Sam told him his dick was going to fall off, he was going to demand his brother just kill him then and there. Fuck… his dick wouldn’t really fall off or be broken from this, right!?

Dean could feel the panic rising in his chest and he forced himself to stand still, made himself look at each person in the room around him and try to come up with why they were here. Maybe they, too, had anal beads break off in their ass… That old woman in the corner looked like she had a kinky side.

“Mr. Winchester?” 

Dean could’ve kissed the blonde nurse for saving his brain from wandering further into that territory. He walked, not waddled, over to her and she led him silently to a room. “You can put on that gown,” she told him, pointing to a hospital johnny sitting on the end of a stretcher, “and the doctor will be with you shortly.”

Dean waited for the curtain to be pulled shut behind her and then turned to the stretcher. He blew out a breath and pulled off his shirts, tossing them onto the visitor chair, as he kicked off his boots and reached for the gown. Luckily, it was all buttoned up, and it took him only a few seconds to figure out which holes were arm holes. 

He bunched the extra fabric up on his arms and released the button for his jeans, shuddering as the sudden release of pressure made his cock throb. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered to himself as he slowly slid the jeans down, wincing as he bent to get them off his feet. 

The gown fluttered down, covering him as he straightened, and he let out a snort as he looked down. Well, as if having a sex toy stuck up your ass wasn’t embarrassing enough… No, let’s have your brother see how much you’re packing. 

Slowly, he eased himself up onto the stretcher, wincing as he shifted and tried to get comfortable. He grabbed the blanket from the end and bunched it up, dropping it over his crotch so that, at the very least, his dick standing at attention wouldn’t be noticed the moment Sam walked through the door. 

He wondered what Sam would say… He would’ve seen the chart first, right? Would know why Dean was sitting in the ER? He hoped like hell he wouldn’t have to explain it to Sam… It was embarrassing enough knowing his little brother was probably going to have to fish the purple beads from his asshole… He hoped Sam would at least laugh _after_ they were out and Dean was fully clothed and prepared to make his escape. 

The sharp sound of curtains drawing back had Dean’s head snapping up and meeting his brother’s eyes. Sam slid the curtain shut behind him and Dean could tell he was trying hard not to laugh by the way his lips kept twitching. Sam cleared his throat. “So what brings you in today, Mr. Winchester?” 

Dean mustered up as much venom as he could into the glare, loathing the shit-eating-grin Sam walked in with. “I hate you so much right now.”

Sam’s fingers twitched around his brother’s chart as he glanced down at it. “Says here that you have anal beads stuck in your rectal cavity?” He arched a brow at Dean and burst out laughing. “Oh my God, Dean, how the hell did you manage that?”

Dean felt his cheeks flush and he looked up at the ceiling for a moment. “Sam, does it _matter_ how it happened? Can you just… get them out, please?” He let his eyes drop and found Sam’s, his brother’s shoulders still shaking in laughter. “Come on, man, it’s really not fun anymore. I’m pretty sure I’m dying.”

“No.” Sam shook his head, laughter dying in his throat. “No _way_ am I going to be the one to remove them.” He met Dean’s shocked gaze. “There are just some places on your body I don’t wanna see, and _definitely_ don’t want to put my fingers.” Sam gave a dramatic full body shudder. “Dr. Novak is the other doc on tonight and he’s really good and will not judge you at all.”

Dean stared for a moment, then shook his head violently. “No! Sam, no, you can’t just… shove me off to another doctor! I can’t-- you have to help me, Sammy. Please. I just, no. I can’t have someone else -- we don’t have to ever talk about it again, okay? You can pretend I’m not your brother,” Dean pleaded, shifting to sit up and wincing at the pull. “Sammy, please.”

“Sorry, not happening.” Sam shook his head and met Dean’s stare, quirking a brow. “Answer me this, would _you_ want to stick your fingers up my ass? Could _you_ just pretend I wasn’t your brother?” Dean’s expression paled at the thought and Sam snorted, “Didn’t think so.” 

Sam cleared his throat and patted his brother on the shoulder. “Dr. Novak will be with you here shortly.”

“Yeah,” Dean mumbled and tightened his grip on the blanket over his lap. Maybe Doctor Novak would be ancient… from what he could remember from Sam talking about the various doctors he worked with, Novak came up quite often in some of the harder cases they’d seen. So he probably was older, had seen it all, and would probably not bat an eye at the fact Dean had something stuck up his ass. Hell, he’d probably know how to remove it better than Sam would! 

He focused on that last thought and tried to relax against the pillows as he waited. 

“Mr. Winchester, may I come in?”

That voice did not sound like it belonged to an old man… “Uh, yeah, come in,” Dean called back and then his heart stopped right there, mid-beat, in the center of his chest. Luck was not on Dean’s side. The doctor that walked in was anything but old, maybe a year or two younger than Dean, and made Dean’s over stimulated cock twitch. 

His white lab coat was drawn tight over his broad shoulders, falling nicely down the rest of his body, and his hands -- fuck, Dean was _such_ a hand guy -- were large and strong looking where they were wrapped around a clipboard. Dean swallowed hard and looked up, meeting the dark stormy blue of the doctor’s eyes. Of course Sam would offer him a fucking sex magnet as a doctor. Why the fuck not?

“Hello, I’m Doctor Novak.” He removed one hand from the chart and extended it for Dean to take.

Dean stared for a moment before lifting one of his own hands and holding it out. The doctor’s hand was warm, his grip tight, and Dean did his best not to yank his hand back as fast as he could before throwing himself at the man. “Um, I’m Dean.”

“Nice to meet you, Dean.” Dr. Novak slowly withdrew his hand “I’ve reviewed your chart,” he gave Dean a small, kind smile. “Could you please remove the blanket from your lap, so I can take a look?”

“I, uh, do you want me to stand up or anything?” Dean asked, fingers turning white as he tightened his grip on the blanket. The last thing he wanted to do was drop it. Hell, the last thing he wanted was to even be here in the first place, not with Doctor Sexy staring at him expectantly. 

The doctor stepped closer and placed his hand on Dean’s knee, a comforting press. “How about you lay back and try to get comfortable, okay?”

Dean blew out a slow breath, nodding as he eased back and tried to relax. “I, uh, don’t really know what happened,” he offered, releasing his hold on the blanket and letting his hands rest by his hips. “It just… happened. I may have panicked a little bit.”

“It was an accident, Mr. Winchester, they happen.” Doctor Novak hummed and removed the blanket from Dean. His eyes were drawn to the very prominent erection Dean was sporting, he shook his head and let his eyes fall back to the chart. “It says here you waited five hours before coming in? Have you been erect the entire time?”

“Uh, well, yeah,” Dean cleared his throat and shifted his hips, wincing once more. “Probably a little longer than that. I mean, before they… you know, broke and all.” He was painfully aware of the doctor’s gaze as he looked over Dean’s body and Dean tried his best not to analyze the expression on his face. 

“Did you try to remove them yourself?” the doctor asked as he placed Dean’s chart on the table. He pulled on a pair of gloves and hesitated stepped up beside the stretcher, meeting Dean’s eyes once. Dean gave a slight nod of approval and the doctor dropped his hands to press against Dean’s stomach. 

“Any pain, Mr. Winchester?” he asked as he moved and pressed in a circle. 

Dean felt his face scrunching up at the slight pressure, but shook his head. “No, no pain.” He waited a moment, the doctor continuing to press, then tap against his fingers, before saying, “You can call me Dean, too. Mr. Winchester reminds me of my father.”

“Okay, Dean.” A small smile quirked up on the doctor’s lips. “You can call me Cas, if that would make you feel more comfortable.”

Dean nodded, returning the smile and let his head fall back against the pillow once more. 

“When you were trying to remove them, was there any pain? Did you notice any blood or drainage?” Cas asked as he continued his exam down the inside of Dean’s groin. Much to Dean’s mortification, his dick twitched as Cas’ hand brushed against his erection. 

“Sorry,” Dean mumbled, swallowing hard. 

“It’s alright,” Cas answered, letting one of his fingers move to the back of Dean’s balls. “It’s actually a good thing that you’re still responding. It means that the blood is continuing to flow and not just trapped there. Priapism would give us a lot more to worry about...”

Dean looked up at that, raising an eyebrow. “Wait, so my dick could possibly be broken?”

Cas just smiled and shook his head. “I am sure your ‘dick’ is going to be just fine, Dean. Once we get the stimulant removed, you should be able to reach sexual gratification and it will go back to normal, with no lasting effects.”

“Sammy is going to bring this up for the rest of my life,” Dean sighed, bringing an arm up and letting it fall over his face. He lifted one of his legs, giving Cas better access to finish his exam, and let out a small groan at the movement. “Sorry,” he mumbled again. 

Cas just nodded and rolled back on his seat over to the counter. He opened up a bottom drawer, poking through it for a moment before pulling out two metal stirrups. He attached two pads to them to make them more comfortable before rolling back over to the stretcher. “Okay, we’re going to have to get your legs up for a bit,” he said as he leaned down and hooked the equipment to the end of the stretcher, tightening the knob and testing it before moving to the second one. 

When they were attached and stable, Cas helped maneuver Dean’s feet into the stirrups and reached behind him in the drop drawer for a packet of surgical lube. He met Dean’s eyes as he tore the packet and smeared it on his gloved fingers. “I’m going to see how far the beads are in and if I can remove them manually, okay?” 

At Dean’s tentative nod, Cas used his clean hand to spread his ass cheeks while his lubed finger rubbed over his rim, coating it before gently pressing in and rubbing along Dean’s inner walls. Cas shifted in his chair as he felt a clench around his finger. “Did that hurt?”

“No,” Dean answered, hating the way his voice sounded breathless. It was surprising, really, how anything new pressing inside him could feel so damn good and yet… “It doesn’t hurt.” 

“Okay,” Cas’ voice cracked and he felt himself hardening in his scrubs at the breathy reply from his patient. He cleared his throat and continued, fighting to remain professional. “Try and relax for me. I'm going to add another finger and slowly push in deeper to see if I can get a hold of the beads. Is that alright with you?”

Dean licked his lower lip and nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He let his eyes close, hoping the arm over his face was blocking most of the flush in his cheeks. He could feel the heat of Cas’ fingers as they pressed in deeper, the slide of the glove was odd but not unpleasant. He swallowed hard, waiting, and nearly bolted off the bed when Cas’ fingertip pressed against the end of the beads. 

“Fuck,” Dean swore, a fresh wave of sweat breaking across his skin, and his thighs trembling in the stirrups. 

“You still doing okay?” Cas asked as his finger enclosed around one of the orbs. “I have a hold of one of the beads, and I’m going to start removing them slowly.” 

He looked up and admired the flush of Dean’s skin, the way his bottom lip was caught between his teeth, and how his chest rose and fell rapidly. He looked delicious laid out, feet in the stirrups, spread wide. In this position, he could just slide right into him, and damn if that wasn’t the most inappropriate thought Cas had ever had about a patient, but in that moment he didn’t give a shit. 

“If it starts to hurt, or you feel uncomfortable at anytime, let me know, and I will stop. Okay,” Castiel took a deep steadying breath watching as Dean did the same. “Here we go.”

With the first tug, Dean gasped, his cock throbbing at the change in pressure against his prostate and he was suddenly aware that the hospital gown was rucked up over his hips, his lower body on complete display to the man sitting between his legs. 

Dean lifted his arm slightly and looked down, immediately wishing he hadn’t. Cas was focused, his eyes glued to where his fingers had disappeared into Dean’s body, the corner of his lower lip drawn between his teeth. Dean’s cock twitched again, and it had nothing to do with the beads sliding over his prostate. 

“You feeling okay, Dean. No pain?” Cas asked as he watched his patient’s rim flutter and open, the first bead popping out.

Dean swallowed hard, biting back the groan that was threatening to spill from his lips. “No pain,” he answered as Cas pulled another bead free and Dean’s words were lost on a sigh. His thigh muscles twitched along with his cock as the first drop of precome leaked from the tip of his cock. “Sorry,” he breathed out again, gasping as one of the beads twisted and slid against him in the most delicious way. “Fuck.”

“No reason to apologize, Dean.” Cas shifted in his seat, his cock ached between his legs as he watched with rapt attention as Dean’s hole gave way for another bead. “As I said before, it’s good your body is responding that way.”

“Yeah, I suppose.” Dean nodded his head and then groaned as another bead popped free. He looked down again, watching as Cas watched him. Dean could feel as his body stretched with each pull of the beads, his hole moving around them and fluttering as each one was popped free. His cock was leaking steadily, his skin on fire and his body thrumming with so much arousal he was sure he was going to fall apart. 

Then, Cas looked up. To ask if he was okay, or to see how he was doing, Dean wasn’t sure. Before the doctor could open his mouth to ask, they locked eyes and as another bead slipped free and Dean moaned, the sound loud and long in the enclosed space. 

Cas’ tongue darted out and ran across his lower lip, his brows furrowed in thought, clearly contemplating asking what was on his mind. A small smirk spread across his lips before he whispered, “Did that, did it feel _good_ Dean?” He slowly pulled the last bead from his patient and dropped the purple strand on the metal tray beside him before moving his hand back and gently running his finger along Dean’s sensitive rim. “Would you like me to leave now so you can take care of that?” Cas nodded towards Dean’s rock hard cock.

Dean breathed out slowly, his heart pounding in his chest, and he wanted nothing more than to tell the man, “Don’t you dare leave me like this.” He stared. His entire body ached, his cock was throbbing and leaking, desperate for attention and release, and Dean knew what he truly wanted, knew it the moment ‘Doctor Sexy’ walked past that curtain. 

But… was he imagining the look of fire in his deep blue eyes? The gently caress of his fingertips, lingering longer than any physician’s had before? Was his lust-addled brain making up scenarios fueled from Dean’s own desperation? 

Dean should tell him it was okay, that he could leave, that he was fine now. What came out was--

“Fuck. _Please_.”

“Well.” Cas dipped his finger inside Dean and ran it along his inner walls. “Would you like me to help you take care of it?” He pressed in deeper gently striking his prostate, grinning as Dean groaned. “I could get you off like this or,” he looked up and met Dean’s eyes, “Your chart says you’re clean. I’d really love to take these gloves off and _feel_ you.” 

Cas slowly pressed in another finger and spread them, pushing back the momentary anxiety at how unprofessional this was. Dean gasped, beared down on his fingers, and Cas was reassured that this attraction between them was mutual. “Unfortunately,” he continued, “I don’t have any condoms on me. But I assure you, I’m clean, too.” The pads of his fingers grazed Dean’s prostate once more. “It’s all up to you. Just tell me what you want, what you need.”

“Fuck, fuck,” Dean whispered, licking his lips and rolling his hips against the doctor’s fingers. “Yes.” he nodded his head and lifted it from the pillow, meeting Cas’ eyes. “Take them off, I want to feel you. I want to feel all of you.”

Cas grinned ferally as he made quick work of removing the gloves and tossed them on top the beads. He pushed up out of his chair and shoved his scrubs down past his thighs, hissing as his rock hard cock sprang free. “You sure about this, Dean?” Cas asked as he reached for the spare packet of lube on the table and began to tear it open.

“Yes.” Dean nodded, reaching for the bunched up hospital gown and ripping it over his head. He tossed it to the side and let his hands run down his chest, groaning softly as he brushed over his nipples and watched Cas coat his cock with the lube. “Fuck, you’re so fucking hot. I wanted you the moment you walked in the room.”

“See how hard I am?” Cas rasped as he snapped his hips forward driving his cock into the tight tunnel of his fist. “I’ve been this hard since I looked at your pretty pink pucker.” He licked his lips as he ran his eyes over Dean, laid out for him. “God, the thoughts that ran through my mind as I watched your body open for those beads.” Dean moved to lift his leg from the stirrup and Cas’ free hand shot out and stopped him. “Don’t move.” Cas stepped closer and ran the head of his cock up the crack of ass, teasing at his rim. “I like the way you look like this, all spread open for me.”

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean groaned, letting his legs relax against the cushions and just rolling his hips up to a new angle. “If you don’t get in me soon,” Dean whispered, reaching forward and grabbing Cas’ wrist, pulling him forward. 

“I got you, Dean,” Cas whispered as the head of his cock pushed past his rim and he slowly bottomed out. Dean let out a loud moan that had Cas quickly moving to press a hand to his mouth. “Shhh, these curtains are thin.” Dean whimpered against his palm as Cas rolled his hips.

Cas pulled back, slowly pressing in again. The pace was slow, but perfect, making every inch of Dean’s skin sing out where Cas touched. His hand stayed against Dean’s mouth, fingers gentle against his jaw, pinky brushing down the side of his throat slowly and Dean moaned into his skin again. 

Tears pricked at the corner of Dean’s eyes as Castiel thrust forward again, his cock pressing against his prostate. He needed to come, fuck he needed to come _yesterday_. If Cas so much as looked at his cock, he knew he would be-- 

“Dean? You doing okay?” 

Cas froze and Dean’s entire body stiffened at Sam’s voice at the curtain. His eyes widened and locked with Cas’ who slowly slid his hand from Dean’s mouth and let it rest gently against his throat. 

“Yeah,” Dean cleared his throat, tried again, “Yeah, Sammy. I’m doing okay. Almost done, I think.”

“Everything is going fine, Dr. Winchester.” Cas rolled his hips and smirked at the wide eyed look Dean gave him. “I’ll have your brother good as new in a few minutes.”

“Okay,” Sam replied and Dean could hear him shifting behind the curtain. “Make sure you come see me before you head home.”

“Ye-yeah, course, Sammy!” Dean replied, hand gripping Cas’ forearm tight as his eyes rolled back in his head. “You’re an asshole,” Dean whispered, clenching his body around Cas’ cock. 

“Fuck,” Cas groaned as his fingers curled around Dean’s hips and he started to thrust into him. “You feel so good, so fuckin’ good.” Cas sighed as he picked up the pace, angling his hips so with each snap of his hips he struck Dean’s prostate.

“Cas,” Dean gasped out, groaning as his cock twitched against his stomach. He was so fucking hard, so fucking full, he just needed that one little push to get him over the edge… “Fuck, Cas, please!”

“I’m so close, I can only imagine how you feel, you’ve been on edge for hours.” Cas slid one of his hands from Dean’s hip and wrapped it around his cock. His slid his hand up and down Dean’s length slowly collecting the precome beaded at the tip on each swipe up and smearing it down his cock. “Come for me, Dean. I want to watch you fall apart.”

“Fuck, Cas, fuck,” Dean whispered, arching his hips up into Cas’ fist before bearing down on his cock. The white hot spike of pleasure that had been sitting just on the cusp, out of reach for far too long, finally spilled over. Dean was thankful for Cas’ quick movement, his cry muffled against the doctor’s palm as he spilled between them in long, hot bursts. A tear slip from his eye and slid down his cheek. He was vaguely aware of Cas fucking into him harder now, chasing his own release. 

Cas groaned and the hand that gripped Dean’s hip dug in harder as Dean’s inner walls clenched around his cock. He thrust into Dean once more and stilled, biting his bottom lip to keep from shouting Dean’s name as his cock throbbed and filled Dean with his seed. Once he was spent, he collapsed forward, resting his head against Dean’s chest and listening to his erratic heartbeat.

“Fuck,” Dean said and then chuckled. “You must think that’s the only word I am capable of saying…”

A small chuckle escaped Cas’ lips before he looked up and met Dean’s eyes. “I’m certain you are capable of many more. In fact,” Cas rose up and moved to the drawer, pulling out a package of wet wipes and taking a few out. He cleaned himself off and pulled up his pants before removing a few more and gently cleaning Dean off as he continued to speak. “My shift actually ended about twenty minutes ago,” he met Dean’s eyes, “I just have to type up the report and get your discharge paperwork, and you’re good to go.” Cas suddenly looked nervous and he gave a small smile. “Would you like to grab a coffee with me?” 

Dean smiled back and lowered his legs from the stirrups, sliding to the end of the stretcher. “Hand me my clothes, Doc,” he said softly and waited for Cas to move to the chair and pick up his jeans and shirts. Dean reached for his hands instead of the clothes when he was closer, pulling him in gently. “I would love to get coffee with you,” he said and gave his hands a squeeze. 

“Good,” Cas sighed as he laid Dean’s clothes on the back of the stretcher and stepped back to pick up Dean’s chart. “I’m going to go finish this up and you should go see your brother and let him know you're okay.”

Dean nodded and watched Cas leave before he started pulling on his clothes. He couldn’t fight back the smile that was spreading across his mouth. With the panic he had felt the moment the beads had broken, he had a million different scenarios cross his mind over what would happen to him -- not one had included being plowed by Doctor Sexy or getting a date with him. He chuckled as he started buttoning up his shirt and looked up, excited to see Cas again as he heard the curtain pull back. 

The disappointment must have been clear on his face because Sam gave him an odd look. “You okay?” he asked, reaching down for Dean’s boots and handing them over to him. 

“Yeah, perfect,” Dean answered, nodding his head and looking anywhere but at Sam’s face. 

There was a beat of silence, then, “You fucking didn’t.”

Dean looked up, eyes wide and innocent. His smile gave him away. 

“I can not believe -- Dean, I _work_ with him!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sammy,” Dean shrugged and started tying up his laces. “You chose to send in Doctor Sexy, I can not be held accountable for my actions.” 

Sam groaned and stood from the visitors chair, whipping back the curtain as he left. Dean looked up to see Cas standing there, a smirk on his lips and a stapled set of papers in his hand. 

“Doctor Sexy?” he asked and Dean rolled his eyes as he pushed off the stretcher. He accepted the paperwork from him and tucked it into his back pocket. 

“Let’s go. We have coffee to get to.”


End file.
